


Advantage: Babicheva

by Bassarid



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Naked Cuddling, Pillow Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9312386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bassarid/pseuds/Bassarid
Summary: Mila and Sara on their first date, featuring some pillow talk and maybe a hint of angst.





	

Mila watched her, a small smile playing on her lips. Sara, in a thick coat and the cutest wool hat (purple, with small golden stars) clutched a cup of mulled wine in her glove-clad fingers, blowing on the steaming drink gently. Mila would have liked to tease her about her get up – in comparison to St. Petersburg, winter in Barcelona was nothing.  
But she refrained from it, for once. It was too new, this, them. She didn't want to ruin the mood before there even was anything to ruin.  
Sara looked up suddenly, focusing that beautiful dark gaze on her.  
“Do you want to try? Careful, it's hot.”  
Mila blushed, but took the cup and had a sip of the sweet, hot drink.  
“Not bad,” she muttered, handing the cup back.  
_But I'd much rather have a taste of your lips._  
They walked over the Christmas market, looked at the stalls and shared a few treats – you couldn't diet all year long, surely.  
All the while Mila was agonising over what to say. It was not a problem she usually had, but something about Sara made her feel awkward, tongue-tied.  
“I love watching you skate, you know? You're so...” Sara raised her hands, waving them slightly. “Fluid. Smooth.” She eyed Mila with a smirk. “Helps to have legs like that, I suppose.”  
Mila felt the heat rising in her face, scratched her head sheepishly and muttered:  
“I can't jump like you, though. Or captivate the audience like you do.”  
Sara turned to fully face her, giving her a look Mila couldn't read at all. Serious, almost a little cross. Had she said something stupid?  
But then Sara shook her head and smiled at her.  
“I was very captivated by you.”  
“Shit,” Mila muttered, covering her face with her hands to hide the stupid grin suddenly plastered on her face, but Sara pulled her hands away and used the opportunity to entwine their fingers.  
“Let's go back to the hotel. I'm getting cold.”  
“Yeah, same,” Mila muttered, sweating underneath her jacket.

*

“I don't want this to be a fling.”  
“Hm?”  
Mila blinked. She'd been drifting off to sleep, with her head on Sara's stomach, and gentle fingers stroking her hair.  
“Were you asleep?” Sara asked softly.  
“No, no. Just a little...”  
“I said I don't want this to be a fling.”  
Mila pushed herself up on one elbow, raising her head to look at Sara.  
“I'd like that. More than a fling, I mean.”  
“It'll be hard, though. Long distance. And...” Sara sighed. “You know I come with baggage.”  
“I'll fight your brother for you, just let him come.”  
Mila flexed dramatically, making Sara snort.  
“You'll tell him you've found someone, he'll say something like 'No man is good enough for my sister', and I'll jump out of the closet, yelling 'Alas, I am no man!'”  
“'Alas'?”  
Mila nodded.  
“Alas.”  
“What are you doing in that closet, anyway?”  
“Where else would I hide in order to make a dramatic entrance? Behind a curtain maybe. But there's always the danger of being stabbed right away.”  
“From Lord of the Rings to Hamlet in twenty seconds. Marry me.”  
Mila grinned.  
“I don't think he would fight you, anyway. He considers himself too much of a gentleman.”  
“Advantage: Babicheva. Neither gentle nor man.”  
Sala snorted again, and somehow it was the most endearing sound Mila had ever heard.  
“But I don't want anyone to fight him for me. I'm not his to protect or give away.”  
“I know.”  
Mila bent down and kissed her gently, pulled her close, settling once more against Sara's warm, naked body, and let one leg slide between her... _girlfriend's_. She couldn't help a grin at the thought.  
“We'll make this work,” she promised, pulling Sara's hand up to her lips, kissing her fingers, before entwining them with her own.  
“And now Mila needs her beauty sleep or you'll be waking up next to Baba Yaga in the morning.”  
Sara chuckled.  
“Babicheva Yaga. The horror.”


End file.
